The Man with Adventure in His Voice
by CompanionToMisterHolmes
Summary: First two chapters are prompt fills for The-Doctor-WTF and textsfromumbridge. The rest is a collection of one and two-shots all in the same AU (with a little wibbly-wobbly-bad-continuity from the first one-shot). Molly as a companion or a long lost friend.
1. Awaking Adventure

The silence of the morgue was not unusual. Molly, in fact, found it beautifully peaceful, being surrounded by the dead that she worked with was not an unnerving factor. Little did she know that not all of the corpses, lined up within their cabinets, had actually passed on.

Pulling out a 'Mr John Smith' with suspected heart failure, Molly's thoughts were hardly 100% focused upon her work, _simple and routine, should take an hour at most_. Unzipping and peeling back the deathly black of the body bag Molly noticed the body was still fully clothed, actually quite handsomely so; wearing a brown pinstripe suite, pale blue dress shirt and a tie of blue and brown, which Molly thought resembled the swirling of the Milky Way. His hair was in a quiff and jelled, but somehow still floppy, Molly couldn't help but notice his angular features, the maintained quirk of his lips and his slim physique.

"Well. Hello handsome." She liked to greet each of her new patients, knew that it was silly but, _we all do silly things._

As the petite woman turned to carry over her sterile equipment tray, the man's piercing eyes snapped open. "And, hello to you too." He spoke in a bright voice; a slight smirk within his tone and upon his lips.

There was a crashing sound that resonated around the stunned silence of Molly Hooper, as she swerved around on her heels to face the man, with the cheek to be alive once pronounced otherwise. Although her eyes betrayed the small amount of fear she had, Molly's voice was uncharacteristically strong. "You're meant to be dead! Heart failure kills people! Dead! Oh…" Molly's head fell into her open palms, "the paperwork I'm going to have to do, and you know, there's no form for this…" Molly shook her head lightly then it shot up to meet his eyes. "You-" she poked the quizzical man in the centre of his chest rumpling his shirt and forcing him backward slightly, "-are causing me a literal mountain of paperwork! I have to create"_ poke_ "a new" _poke_ "form" _poke _"for you!"_ double poke._

Glancing from her badge to the deep brown eyes that mirrored his own in their chocolate colour, the supposed 'John Smith' chuckled, "You-" it was now his turn to poke her, in the tender spot under her ribs, "- Miss Molly Hooper MD, have a very strange reaction to the living dead." Molly was now giggling as she rubbed at the ticklish spot the man had poked.

"I suppose you could say that, I've been there, done that, housed the result in secrecy until a criminal network was fully disbanded, although I never did get a t-shirt. So… how'd you fake yours?"

By now 'John Smith's' legs had swung over the side of the workbench and were dangling mid-air over the edge. Molly had moved to the more comfortable and inquisitive position of propping up her elbows on the counter next to him, and resting her head on her hands, her face now void of shock and shining with interest.

"I'll have you know, I faked nothing, the left heart did go into cardiac arrest and failed. All I needed were chilled conditions for the regeneration energy to promptly heal the left ventricle; and the TARDIS' fridge is actually smaller on the inside." Molly looked confused, and who wouldn't be? What on earth was a TARDIS? And why was this man shocked and looking somewhat appalled his fridge was smaller on the inside? All fridges are smaller on the inside! "And I'm The Doctor, thanks for asking." This 'Doctor' looked down at her affronted that she'd not asked of his name, but he still seemed to be buzzing with adrenaline filled excitement. _Maybe that's just what happens when you rise from the dead?_

"Oh, um, I'm sorry… I just assumed you were the John Smith on the records." The Doctor thrust out his hand for Molly to shake, a satisfied grin, showing off some impressive teeth, across his face. When she shook his hand, his other hand grasped around their already connected ones and shook her whole being.

Still amidst his and Molly's handshake The Doctor spoke at a quick pace that was somehow not rushed, "Ye_p_-" his 'p' popped like the bubble gum Molly had a slight addiction too from the ages of 10-17, "-well… that's sort of me, yes; but it's like my alias, which I suppose The Doctor is too, but that's more of a nickname really." Halting his speech abruptly with the final jolt of the handshake, he hopped of the bench, his trainers squeaking against the linoleum floor.

He stalked around Molly, as if studying her. Looming over her with his gangly height and subtle intensity. "Hmmmm…" he stopped dead ahead of her, bending his skinny legs so that he was eye level, he continued "… I like you, Molly H_ooper-_" with an unusual emphasise put on the 'oopa' sound of her surname, Molly was easily charmed by this Doctor's fascinating voice; he sounded like adventure and excitement. "-You're spunky, you told me off for being alive due to the amounts of paperwork it would cause, and in just the right light, you're a little bit ginger… I've always wanted to be ginger!" a proud and devastatingly charming grin lit up his narrow features; that was until three successive flat handed hits landed upon his upper left arm.

"Oi, you… Spunky! No one says spunky… I am NOT spunky! I think we are past the paperwork now, don't you? And, I am not ginger, not even in the right light." Shocked by her outburst but still smiling The Doctor pulled Molly into a clumsy hug.

"I think you have proved just how spunky you are. Now. H_ooper _we must be off, plenty of running to be done; the Silurian or Sycorax or Sontarons, or something with an 's' is invading and we get to save the whole world… Oh, c'mon don't give me that look, so incredulous. Okay, I'll fill you in. I'm an alien, two hearts, which is why I'm still here for you to shout at. Another, rather unpleasant, alien race are about to try their upmost to take over and rule humankind, which for a bunch of brilliant beings, you are dramatically unprepared for. That's where me, The Doctor- TimeLord, and you, my new and rather good looking companion-" clicking his tongue he sent a wink her way "Hooper- Human, come in; saving the planet from certain doom and always back in time for tea!"

Molly did not faint at this, Molly did not gawk at this, Molly did not scream, or cry, or run at this; she merely took a deep breath in, collecting her thoughts, and upon exhaling spoke to the man with adventure in his voice. "Okay… yeah… sounds **exciting**. And I thought my life couldn't get weirder than having gone on three dates with James Moriarty."

"Goodness me, you really are spunky. I was preparing for you to faint, I thought you'd be a fainter, you look like a fainter." This earned him another playful hit as she looped her arm into his.

"If I am to follow you, Doctor, and save the world from a bunch of rouge aliens that begin with 's', then there will be less of the 'spunky'. Thank you."

"Yes, Miss." The Doctor mock saluted the small woman.

"Good!" Molly laughed.

"Allons-y!" dragging a running Molly though the thick and common double doors and into adventures untold, the morgue was left in it's usual silence, if not a little worse for wear and missing the shuffling footfalls of a young 'spunky' pathologist.

A voice echoed through the corridors and into the silence, getting softer and softer as the two ran in the direction of the trouble to come. "Get off my hair Doctor… you know if you have such a fascination and a want to be ginger, there is a thing called hair dye!"


	2. A Flying Visit

**This is partly Sherlolly (Sherlock/Molly) so if you don't sail said ship I you can bypass the following chapter, but I was prompted again and it seemed appropriate. Also feel free to ignore that it's Sherlock's name and just change it to Matt or something. **

**This prompt was from the lovely ThinksInWords a.k.a textsfromumbrige on Tumblr. **

**I own nothing unfortunately.**

* * *

"Molly Hooper!" The fiery redhead tapped a lost friend on the shoulder.

"Donna! It's you." Before she could continue the two became trapped in a strong embrace neither could remember who started. As they parted the smiles plastered upon their faces betrayed a false sense of maturity they tried to convey.

"What's the best temp in Chiswick doing in the dungeons of St. Barts?"

"Well, Hoops, I'm here to see you, of course, and to drag you on an adventure."

"God, I've missed you, although I have not missed being called that." Molly pulled Donna into another slightly quicker embrace. "When you say adventure, do you mean space, time or Chiswick?"

"If you're asking after the Martian, he's parking, but we'll be lucky if he ends up in this century, let alone in this area."

The 'Martian' in question barrelled through the double doors, he'd clearly gotten lost at least twice and ran at least the length and breadth of the hospital... then again when was he not lost and running.

"Oi! I heard that... Not a Martian, I'm a TimeLord. And I'll have you know that the TARDIS always takes me where I need to be..." His voice paused, trailing away, as he spotted the petite pathologist his eyes had not glanced upon in what felt like a thousand long years. He looked her up and down in the curious way he had done upon their first meeting, before ruffling his browning hair, loosing the gel that held it in it's extravagant place. Hesitantly he took on slow step towards her, before barreling toward the poor woman and engulfing her in a hug. If he weren't so spindly it would have had greater effect, he lifting the giggling woman and spun her round. "And hello to you too, Doctor."

"Molly Hooper! Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes... How is it, living time in the right order? Slow, tedious, filled with dull dwindling hours of torturous non-adventure?" This query was something the Doctor always wondered, he could pop from here to there, and then to where, in a matter of seconds, but Molly had wanted the right order, to live and age alongside her mad detective and not all higgldy piggldy with her mad traveller.

"Perfectly lovely, thank you. I suppose I do miss the wibbly wobblyness of it all sometimes. Although... it seems as if you've been away less time than me, here I am ageing 2 years and you've still not rid yourself fully of the ginger hair." At this Molly and Donna shared a look, that to any other would have seemed a passing glance, but to the two young woman spoke of the devilish trick they'd played two weeks prior to Molly leaving the TARDIS arm in arm with a certain aloof consulting detective. Bursting into hellish fits of laughter, as in their minds eye, The Doctor's startled eyes as he awoke to the oozing of water falling from his scalp was replayed, and the man in front of them once again echoed the same look of confusion, frustration, pride and ego as when he had glanced into the mirror to see the startling ginger of his once dark hair.

"Yep." He popped his 'p' in the way Molly fondly remembered, that voice filled with adventure and madness was difficult to forget, and she most certainly wasn't trying to. "It's technically been, what, 6 months since I last saw you Hooper. Anywho," The Doctor lent back on his heels rolling forward to the balls of his feet, Molly noticed how worn his trainers seemed, they no longer squeaked against the hospital's linoleum and the tattered fabric had seen better days. "ADVENTURE!" The cheeky smile that spread across his narrow face, showing a glimpse of the dazzling teeth this regeneration was blessed with, was accompanied by the grabbing of hands and the fluttering of lab coat, denim jacket and overcoat as the three ran into the definite danger ahead.

When you run with The Doctor, when trouble is echoed with each footstep and aliens are around every corner, you learn to talk and run. There is rarely time to catch up with old friends when in his presence, so now was a good a time as any for Donna to bring up Molly's love life. "So how is lover boy? Still at 221b with Doctor Quite Gorgeous?"

"If you're referring to Sherlock, 'lover boy' is fine, still in the land of the living, thanks to you two."

"And you Hoops, I think you're forgetting you're the main reason that he still lives..."

"Yes, well... Umm, still, thanks." The smile on Molly's face showed the modesty that she felt on the subject, she didn't feel responsible for Sherlock still breathing, even if she was. "And yes, he still lives in 221b, and yes John still lives at 221b and now I live at 221b, which is still a little weird to say, even after a year and a half."

At this The Doctor's pace slowed, although it did not still. "What?..."

"Doctor, don't be silly, life goes on outside of the TARDIS, my lease on the flat ended 6 months after you left, so as most people do I moved in with my boyfriend."

"What?..." Still walking along The Doctor's voice became more confused.

"Which reminds me, I've got some news..."

Donna jumped to the wrong conclusion, as many would when they heard there was news, "Nooooo... Hoops, really?"

"Not what you're thinking, a little less shocking, and it's not Hoops, nor Hooper any more. It's Holmes."

"What!?..." Stopped in his tracks, The Doctor's voice was deep and filled with shock, the adventure drained along with the colour in his face, it was even as if his hair went limp.

"Molls, that's brilliant!" at least Donna seemed happy with the news. Surely it shouldn't be that shocking, the Holmes-Hooper romance had started in the TARDIS after Sherlock's 'death' and continued after his return to the land of the living, when they had both left, closing those cool blue doors behind them.

"No, yes... Brilliant!" And with that The Doctor started running again, gathering speed at a rate of knots.

"Oh, c'mon. With a mind that spans the universe, the size of planets, you really need to work on your 'science of deduction' I've been wearing my wedding ring since I saw you!"

Spinning round slowly splaying his arms out in a form of reveal. "Well, I'm in the right place then aren't I?"

Somehow without knowing it, they had run the streets of London, all the way from Barts to cracked black door, with the crisp bronze number upon it... 221b.

"We're at 221b, why are we at 221b?... you need Sherlock don't you? So it wasn't just an excuse for you to to see me then. It was all to use my husband's skills of deduction." Molly scowled as much as her joy would allow.

"Oh, you know full well it was to see you... In his weird Doctory way, there had to be trouble somewhere I think he brings it with him. And even I miss that snarky brainbox, a little."

The door opened swiftly and with precision. Sherlock who was once caseless, pyjama clad and bored, now stood in a crisp clean suite and dress shirt and an excited gleam in his eye as he'd spotted the bad hair dye and the acrumpled overcoat that came with other world adventure.

"Molly, you're early. Doctor, you're late. And Donna, John's not in, but I'm sure he'll be back in time for you to flirt." The clipped and precise words of the Only Consulting Detective were betrayed by the kiss he gave his wife as they bundled in the door and by the slight smirk he gave his intellectual rival.

In a suspiciously happy mood, even too much for Molly's liking, Sherlock gave Donna a short hug. It lasted seconds but was genuine, passed any common curtesy Sherlock had ever shown the feisty companion previously;

"And hello to you too, BrainBox. I hear you've made Hooper into a Holmes. Finally."

"Yes, finally." He sent a soft smile, that was only ever seen amongst his closest friends and allies, to his wife.

"But I see that you're not here on catching up business. What is is 6 months since you last saw us, in the 2 years you've been absent." At The Doctor's quizzical look Sherlock continued his rambled deductions, words coming out as fast as the running pace of a madman to his blue box. "The hair Doctor, you've not bothered to re-dye it, some form of sentimental nonsense I assume, yet you are letting it grow out. Since Molly and Donna dyed it in your sleep two weeks before we left, your hair growth beneath the hair dye suggests an absence of 6 months. And I also see you're not here on a friendly visit, you need my deductive reasoning to solve some from of alien based crime. Really Doctor, your mind is vast, if you just eradicated some of the sentiment you carry with you I could teach you easily the 'science of deduction'." The Doctor gave a look of dismissal, he wanted a mind filled with space, time, and sentiment, not deductive reasoning.

"From when I last saw you I've been keeping track of abnormal activity across London and many other areas, and using unreadable tabloids and Mycroft's many levels of access and predictable passwords, I hacked Torchwood and found there has been alien activity contributing to the criminal activity in areas of south east London. That happened three weeks ago... Therefore, Doctor, you're late."

The Doctor jumped, literally jumped into the air and around the room a little, spinning round to face Sherlock, grabbing his face, pulling him towards him in an excited wet forehead kiss. "BRILLIANT!"

The disgusted confusion that crossed Sherlock's face lasted a moment, until he heard the words of praise fall the lanky man's lips, his ego couldn't resist it.

Now of course, Molly couldn't resist breaking apart the two, enough to grab their shoulders and stretching ruffle their hair. "Oh, look at my mad boys, all excited about aliens, and trouble, and crime."

Both 'mad boys' batted away the offending arms that loosened the gel and frizzed the curl of their hairs.

"Okay, I hate it when I have two lanky men with that look of excited understanding on their smug Martian and genius faces, tell me what's going on..."

"Clones, Donna, Clones! People created by the Auton race... living plastic, something these eyes have never seen, last time they were about, they got Mickey" in his usual way the 'key' was pronounced with exuberance. "And I met Rose..." A silence hung between them and for the moment the Doctor's eyes shone with loss, they all knew and it had come to a time when hugging him would along prolong his moments heartbreak. "...ummm, yes and yes, Auton clones..." The excitement entered back into his voice. "They're killing people and taking their form, using that form to kill more people and taking those forms... In other words a slow invasion. They're difficult to spot, bar some signs, one being how plastic they look, and then there's the hair, they haven't quite got hair right yet, which means we're currently off the prime target list. That's why I need you Sherlock, and you're keen eye, Molly and her loveliness, and Donna with her scathing sarcasm and brilliant gingerness."

"Oi!" The two woman chorused. "Is that all we're good for?!" Now that was a sight to strike fear into any right minded man or TimeLord, two sets of focused eyes, crossed arms and pursed lips.

"Yes... No, no, no, no, NO!"Digging a hole as only The Doctor could Sherlock decided to intervene, and very unlike himself resolved rather than increasing an awkward situation.

"I think what The Doctor is trying and failing miserably to convey, is that he got his prorites a little confused, we need you two, because you're always the ones to save this fool when his thought up on the go plan looses precision and any glimpse of a plan!"

"Oh, yes!" The Doctor sent a wink towards the two woman and the uncomfortable man, as he swiped his arm in front of him in an effort to grab thin air and convey his enthusiasm. "C'mon, we best run... John's just turned up and we need to grab him, while I think up a terribly brillliant plan, and we save the human race with three doctors, two geniuses and one fiery redhead."

"Doctor, I know that you're quite clever, but is counting not your strong suite? There are five of us and you seem to make it six." Molly piped up.

"Aha, but I am a Doctor and a genius!"

And with that they ran down the creaking stairs, grabbing the wrist of the passing army Doctor, past the streets of 221b and into the opening doors of a startlingly blue box, they had some work to do.


	3. The Return of a Living Plastic

**This is continued from the previous chapter, a 2 shot if you will.**

**Well, this certainly took me long enough to update, and I am sorry, no real excuses but a lack of inspiration (even though I love writing this story, I have just written the chapters after this one :P**

**Also, a little disclaimer. The timelines are a bit wibbly wobbly, with the first chapter. Molly does mention that she's already saved Sherlock when she first meets The Doctor, but that doesn't necessarily fit with the remaining times, Sherlock having met The Doctor in the process of being saved. So Molly did meet The Doctor under the same circumstances in this AU, just missing a line or two from the first chapter.**

**Enjoy... **

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"Hello there, John Watson." Donna's vibrant hair bounced as she locked the TARDIS doors and bounded up to meet her friends at the controls.

"Always a pleasure, Donna Noble." 'Three continents Watson' let an easy smile take over his features. Sherlock scoffed, but was more than happy to see John flirting with a woman who was far from boring.

"Donnnna!" The Doctor's tone was warning as he slipped a vile of the anti-plastic he had found when searching his timeworn leather jacket, something that suited the past him far better. Why couldn't she just leave the charming army Doctor alone? It was bad enough he had to suffer the secret smiles of the newly married Holmes'.

"I'm saying hello to my friend you skinny man child. No need to take that tone with me." There it was the fire, the umph that immediately had John flirting like there was no tomorrow with the redhead of his dreams. Well, with The Doctor, there may well be no tomorrow. Even if he did flush a pale shade of red.

"Oh, Doctor do leave them be." The Doctor conceded at Molly's words, he found he had no urge to ever fight with Molly.

Sherlock rounded the TARDIS console, the anti-plastic was limited and with this new subspecies, this new strain of Auton they would have to revise and recreate the formulae; without all the details at his disposal and The Doctor's unique last minute plans, Sherlock was thankful of the TARDIS and the rapport he had built with the magnificent machine over the time he and Molly had travelled with Donna and The Doctor; she was certainly more use than a microscope, she was a vast source if Alien knowledge and that she existed across all of time simultaneously this blue box always knew the solution. The screen beeped and flashed a new formulae created on the screen, some of the symbols were clearly Galifreyan, and although Sherlock had a basic knowledge of the written form he could not quite decipher the final few words. Pushing the screen, spinning it round the central column, it came to a halt when faced with The Doctor.

"I understand that the TARDIS can recreate the basic formulae, needing to add a calcium phosphate to counteract the acidity of the newly created beings, but that last sentence, what else do we need to add?" Sherlock scrunched his nose, something Molly had come to find an endearing sign of confusion.

"Ah!" The Doctor chuckled. "A spoonful of sugar will help the medicine go down. Mary Poppins knew her stuff!"

"Mary Poppins was real?!" John, Molly and Donna chorused. Sherlock was yet to understand the cultural reference.

"Very real, and a brilliant TimeLady at that. Also the reason Mycroft has a penchant for umbrellas if I am not mistaken." The Doctor was grinning broadly, swaying on the sides of his well-worn trainers.

The formulae needed 3 hours to expand and combine to form the correct proportions of the concoction, the TARDIS would handle all the fiddly stuff, and the monsters were at bay for now. He could catch up with old friends, he could hug Molly Holmes nee Hooper, and he could pick the mind of a genius and attempt to teach him about the stars. Three hours was a long time, in order, in the pace of a human life, so they talked and talked, they laughed at the varied attempts Molly had taken to invite The Doctor and Donna to her wedding day, including calling in on Torchwood, and yellow spray paint across the roofs of Baker Street, the words 'Doctor, Come to my wedding?' still emblazoned there and readily available on Google Earth. At one point in a lull of conversation, and with Sherlock and Molly no longer tangled hands and passing glances he stole Molly away, through the corridors and halls, into the room that was her second home.

The TARDIS library held that distinct book smell, a mix of old and new Molly twirled round looking to the ceiling only to find the towering bookshelves had at least doubled in height since she'd left them, empty though some of them maybe. "You've been collecting."

The Doctor looked proud of himself as he pushed down the shelves lowering the shelves, or lifting the floor, so that Molly's eyes could spot her own name on the spines of journals, textbooks, essay collections, and even a few non-fictions. "They're good. Brilliant, actually." His smile clear in his jubilant voice.

She looked a little more closely, avoiding the spoilers, like titles and dates, but something caught her eye. "I publish under Hooper then." It wasn't a question, but The Doctor still nodded.

He turned to her, lowering the floor or raising the shelves, she still couldn't decide, and grasped her face between his rough ageing hands. He couldn't hide his 900 years from her. Brushing away the hair that seemed to be permanently falling across her face, pulled free through a hard days work and the running The Doctor's presence entailed. The Doctor traced the timeworn lines of her face, etched there through laughter and happiness; some were even from her time with him, not as he had feared, formed from worry, heartache or torment.

"My gorgeous Molly… are you happy?" The words stuck in his throat a little as he pushed on through the sentiment. Never meaning to go beyond the realms of friendship, but they had always referred to each other in such ways, it had stuck.

"Of course I am, you old fool!" She laughed, easing his worry. As his arms fell back to his sides Molly grasped his face and planted a noisy kiss upon his cheek. "Now, c'mon, we have a world to save, you can't be checking up on me."

"I have to check up on you Hooper, it's my job. I don't want to leave it to wanton acts of vandalism and unfortunate place, fortunate time invasions again."

"We won't. And that's a Hooper promise."

"And a Hooper promise is a kept promise." He beat her to the all too familiar words.

"Are you happy, Doctor?" Molly questioned.

"Aren't I always."

"No." She cut in. His eyes lit up, emotion was certainly there, but reading this man was how she knew the depths of Sherlock Holmes. The false smile of a TimeLord, held distinct similarities with that of a Holmes.

"But now I am. With Donna, she still keeps me in my place. I've seen you again, and I even had the pleasure of fighting the 'bad dreams' set to cancel Martha and Mickey's wedding."

"Good, just checking. Although if we want to get on and save the world, remember **practically perfect people never permit sentiment to muddle their thinking.**"

She paused, as they walked the always different corridors to return to the console room. "Are you sure Mary Poppins was a TimeLady, she sounds very much like a Holmes."

"What's that love?" Sherlock has caught the last glimpse of his name, his interest piqued as he whished to know where his wife had been whisked off to, contrary to popular belief he cared of Molly's whereabouts, **constantly**.

Molly had no time to answer as the TARDIS set about emitting dings and bings and a plethora of noises The Doctor had collected and loved throughout his time visiting earth. The anti-plastic was complete and it was time to defeat the Auton's attempts at invasion once and for all. Two vials popped up from the console, Sherlock and The Doctor swooped in and simultaneously caught and pocketed a vial each.

John and Donna sighed in exasperation; the smug grins that the two geniuses were mirroring from each other were almost sickening. Molly on the other hand giggled.

"Oh, if you two could see yourselves, you look like you're in a cheesy action film!"

* * *

_Running, there was always so much running._ John thought.

_Bloody running, if I get all hot and sweaty in front of John I'm going to throttle The Doctor._ Donna's mind tried to catch up with her body.

_Running, gosh I didn't realise I was so unfit._ Molly decided to leave her huffing and puffing to the back of her mind, almost dragged along by the loose grip of The Doctor and Sherlock's hands.

_RUNNING. I've missed this._ Was the two geniuses synchronized thought.

* * *

"The signal, Doctor! You mentioned a transmitted signal; from the last time you faced the living plastic. Where's the signal?" Donna blurted as they rushed blindly along the London streets, as was always The Doctor's plan. How Sherlock had missed that was beyond the congregation of heavily breathing people, Molly had her hands on her knees glaring at her 'handsome man' and her husband. "I've been running for twenty minutes… and neither of you had a BLOODY clue where we were going. I always got this from him," Molly pointed roughly in The Doctor's direction, "but Sherlock! You never solve something blindly."

The woman were seething, John held back his mild frustration and The Doctor smiled clumsily as Sherlock answered his wife affronted. "Well, um… I understand now it was an illogical assumption, but we haven't travelled with him for so long, I just expected the man who had defeated these alien's previously to have a full plan."

Unable to stay mad at anyone for any length of time, Molly hugged her 'Mr. Holmes' and entwined their fingers as she pulled away.

"Did you say a transmitter, a signal, like a giant satellite dish, what about the London Eye?" John suggested, his expression proud and ego puffed up with his chest.

"That was last time! They're not ones to repeat themselves… but ummm, good idea John." The Doctor ended as he gained a fierce look from Donna. John still deflated.

"The Shard! It's a reasonably new construction, if the living plastic has been here as long as you say, it could easily been incorporated in the construction, and WiFi these days, they'll be no need for a dish like for transmission." Molly squeezed his hand, the logic was infallible, and she could see the affection The Doctor was about to unload on the somehow always unsuspecting man.

"BRILLIANT!" The skinny man would have kissed the stoic man again, he would have lifted him up if he were stronger, yet instead he held the man's shoulders and slapped his cheeks in quick succession. Leaving behind a stunned Sherlock and the soft giggles of the remaining group.

* * *

They had run and run, skidded across winding repetitive corridors and stairwells, chased and hid, finally finding the, if anything, poorly hidden living plastic. There had been a scuffle where John had shot a plastic man and The Doctor had tutted profusely at his adamant gun use. The Doctor, of course, clumsy in nature, and thankful for the back up had dropped his vial of anti-plastic whilst in search of his 'clever glasses', only to find his void-stuff detecting colour-filled paper frames.

Thankfully Sherlock had swooped in his coat swishing glory, emptied the spare vile making sure every drop and small crystal of sugar emptied into molten mess that filled the basement floor.

The 'dream-team' had saved the day. And all but the two tall, while regularly to be found brooding, men looked much worse for wear.

* * *

Tea, the saviour of worlds, the quintessence of British culture, and the best way to end a day chasing monsters and fighting aliens, so that's just what they did. Retreating to the all too familiar, but somehow changed, rooms of 221b Baker Street (a woman's touch), and cooed over by the kindly woman from the flat below, even if she did tell The Doctor off several times for being so rakishly thin as she loaded his hands with biscuits and cakes alike, Donna had only laughed heartily amongst bouts of "I told you so, Martian!"

Donna and John had flirted with vigour and unresolved passion. Molly and Sherlock had gone against even their norms, filled with relief, and snuggled openly. The Doctor chatted about the old days and the new days with Mrs Hudson, and for 2 hours, in their 221b bubble, everything was solved and fought and safely hidden under the bed.


	4. The Extensive Amount Of Children's Books

**More you say... why of course! I thought this was sweet. A one-shot in the same AU as the past two-shot, a little shorter and just The Doctor and Molly.**

**Before Donna etc. Ahhhh! Timelines :L**

* * *

"Hooooper!" The lanky man's voice resonated through the seemingly empty halls of the TARDIS library, bouncing off everything from his extensive collection of picture books and children's literature, to his leather bound encyclopaedic human history ranging from the age of dinosaurs and Silurians to Molly's own present day.

_The spoilers were hidden within racks and rails of costumes past, there was a particularly exciting entry of 'Brain Transplants: The Never-Ending Life of Sherlock Holmes' wrapped within his fourth generation's extravagant scarf. That was, of course, until a panicked moment when Molly had found said scarf, that particular book had found a new hiding place as his scarf had found itself a permanent attachment upon Molly. _

A head popped around the corner of a yet another wall of never-ending bookcases, leaning to the side and huge grin plastered across her face and a pile of books barley contained in her arms. Her hair was flowing to the side, his scarf following suit, tendrils of her rusty brown hair escaping and falling across her face and the Doctor couldn't help but mirror the smile; he always chose the beautiful humans to run away with and Molly was no exception, if a good heart were visible, Molly would be the physical representation of the good deeds that had filled her life.

"Sorry, if you lost me. I was in my own little world, reading, thinking." She had been strolling around for hours, never quite sure where her path ended or began, but sure that a TimeLord of 900 odd years should have a lesser ratio of kids' books.

"Thinking, Hooper. That's a dangerous thing. We can't have that, you might just realise you ran away with a mad man in a bigger-on-the-inside-box."

"Oh." The smile was wiped from here features, slowly it melted away, and a small glimpse of fear entered her eyes. She straightened herself up, placing the stack of books on one of the many nearby tables, of an era she wasn't too sure. Taking a step towards the brown suit and burgundy converse that were the epitome of her 'handsome man' (well, every one of his companions had given him a nickname, it was their first greeting after all).

"'Oh'. That's the second most dangerous word in the English language." The Doctor quirked his brow and almost nervously licked his lips, his humour shone through, but he wasn't sure.

"Well…" Her voice was faint as he nervously laughed, short breaths filled with little humour.

"And there's the first."

"Doctor, I've got to go home. To my pokey London flat. To my morgue."

"It's him, isn't it? Why you have to go home, why you can't run with me anymore."

"I was thinking more about Toby, he can't live with my Mum forever, and my job… I worked hard for that job. I can't just run from my responsibilities, not anymore, and neither can you… my handsome man."

"Well…" The Doctor gave himself an appraising look, no matter that Molly didn't really always mean it.

"Well nothing. Anyway you've got places to save and people, people who need to be whisked away; you make people better Doctor. You've made me better, I've had my turn and I think I'll be overstaying my welcome, before too long sexy here would be chucking me out."

Molly affectionately patted the TARDIS walls, a small whir sounded throughout the large room.

"See, she agrees with me. Hooper."

"I'll see you again, handsome. And you know I'll be back, sexy!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

"A Hooper promise is a kept promise, any-who, how will London cope without me?" She chuckled, deeply into the warmth of her borrowed scarf, it smelt of time and space and she wasn't quite sure how, but it smelt of another world.

"I can take you back days after we left, seconds. We can escape for one last adventure, we never did meet Walt." He smiled shyly, as if asking his first crush to the school dance. He was such a child for a 900 something. He wasn't quite ready to lose another companion. The Doctor had known from the start that he'd loose Molly to the hands of Sherlock Holmes one day, but he didn't want today to be that day.

Molly glanced back at her stack of books, spotting the top of the pile, the book of her childhood, the book of promised adventure and the deep mellow tones of her father's voice. "Take me where the wild things are!"


	5. Trust

**For Day. Because it was her birthday, and she is super lovely and supportive and one hell of a laugh on twitter.**

**Also she writes awesome stuff. (That's daisherz365 on here and sincerelydayyy on Tumblr)**

**She asked for some Sherlolly with a bit of The Doctor, but it turned into The Doctor with some Sherlolly. And some feels, there's a bunch of those.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

_"And you trust this man?" Sherlock's voice was lowered in the unlit morgue. _

_"Yes. With everything. With my life. He has saved me more times than you can imagine. He can save you, from this game. I promise you."_

_"And I, Molly Hooper, trust you." Sherlock Holmes was afraid, which was painful to admit, even to himself. He slowly lifted his hand to Molly's face, and caressed her cheek swiping away her unshed tears with the calloused skin of his thumb. "More than you can imagine."_

_He placed a soft kiss on her lips, Molly's bittersweet dream, and Sherlock's unknown want realised. A plan in place, Sherlock Holmes strode out of the basement floor, heading to the roof, heading to a fate he was unsure of, his life in the hands of a man he was yet to meet._

* * *

The phone was ringing, _why was the phone ringing? _The Doctor and Donna had been playing a Galifreyan version of snap for the past hour, Donna had always known the set of cards she'd hidden in one of her hat boxes would come in handy, and Donna was wining. The shrill noise of the phone's ring reached them within one of the TARDIS' indefinable rooms, all the way from the console room, and within seconds The Doctor's converse clad toes wriggled with excitement and carried him down the grated metal steps to the main room. Clutching the off white receiver, he smiled.

"Hello?" he said cheerily.

"Doctor? I need your help. Please." The faint voice from the other end was filled with the remnants of tears and hope.

* * *

Molly Hooper felt silly, actually, she felt down right stupid. The TARDIS must have a phone; surely, _I mean it is a Phone Box_. As she clutched the black receiver of her office phone in her shaking hands, there was a small amount of logic and a whole tonne of blind faith behind what she was about to do. Sherlock needed her help, and therefore Molly needed her Doctor.

She put the well-worn hospital phone to her ear and whispered into the receiver, chanting, praying. "Doctor. I need you." "Doctor. I need you."

The dull tone, the constant buzz, of a phone off the hook filled her mind. But she had to try, that silly man in his blue box may not have left a direct number to the unused phone that was nestled in the complicated console, but the TARDIS key she wore round her neck everyday, close to her heart and was now grasped in the sweaty palm of her free hand, had to mean something.

"Hello?" The voice that broke the unnerving silence was **his.** Cheery in disposition, slightly out of breath, and tinged with worry, just how she remembered.

"Doctor? I need your help. Please."

"How did you get this number? I didn't even know it had a number!" Confusion was dead set in his tone.

"Doctor. My handsome man. It's me, it's Molly. It's 2012, January 14th, 6:30pm to be precise. And I have no idea how I got hold of you, but God am I glad to hear your voice." Her breath was even now, relief flooding through her veins.

"Hoppa! My Hooper." The Doctor was so shocked to here the voice of a lost friend, he had missed Molly dearly, ever since the day she had left in favour of Sherlock Holmes, he couldn't help the excited an energetic tone his voice held.

That was, of course, until he realised Molly was far less jubilant, Molly Hooper sounded lost, scared and in need of help. She had never sounded scared, not when she had faced the Daleks, not when she had faced demons split between time rifts, and not even when the innocent pathologist was faced with the 'Hello' of Captain Jack Harkness.

"My Doctor…" her voice was faint, but it held the memory of a smile.

"What do you need?" He was serious now, phone held to his ear by his shoulder as he rushed around the various thingy-ma-bobs and huga-ma-flips to control his flight path, setting a time, a date, he had to be precise, it had to be NOW! Molly couldn't help the bubbling giggle that was released from her lips, her and The Doctor were so in sync, no matter how far they were apart. "You."

* * *

The woosh and weeze that came along with an ageing Police Public Call Box and a brilliant two-hearted man filled the empty silence of St Bart's morgue, just as her final word was uttered. The heavy blue door swung open and the tussled hair and childish grin popped out. "Did someone say they needed a Doctor?"

"Oh you and your terrible clichés." Molly tutted as she rushed into the lanky man's embrace.

"Are we in a morgue? Doctor, what the…!?" An unfamiliar voice broke the two apart.

"Why yes we are. St Bart's in fact, and this Donna Noble is my good friend -"

"Molly Hooper?" The red head intervened.

"Yes, um… Hello. Timelines and all that, have we met?"

"No, not yet, but you know how he talks. Can't shut him up. And Molly Hooper is the stuff of legend." Molly was dragged into another warm embrace, this time for the rather strong woman opposite her, red hair obscured her vision, but she accepted the squeeze.

She needed this, a hug from a stranger, from a soon to be friend; any friend of The Doctor's was a friend of Molly's, she could talk openly about the new world's and old times. She was released from the warmth as the tears began to well in her eyes, she really hadn't felt comfort like this since the days she had been with The Doctor, now she needed him so badly and he was here and it was like a miracle.

She had made a promise to the man, one that she would see him again, that their adventure wasn't over, just on pause. But there was a small part of her, as her everyday life dragged on, as the sense of life and adventure was lost with each precision cut with a medically clean scalpel, every lost line on a consulting detective, that thought it may never happen.

The Doctor saw the pools of unshed tears collecting in her eyes and grabbed her hand, looping his fingers in a strong grip, squeezing.

"I need you to save him Doctor, he's going to die, and without you I can't save him."

"Oh, Molly. You could have saved him without me."

"No. Not from a 70ft fall. Not from that **stupid** game he's playing. Not from himself. Not from Jim Moriarty."

"Molly Hooper. Yes, you could, although it would be a little more difficult without the TARDIS. Anyway, any excuse to see you, Hooper." He wiped the fallen tears from her eyes, kissing her forehead affectionately, "I will always be here if you need me."

"Can we have an actual plan this time though. For my sanity's sake."

"Well…" The Doctor let out a chuckle.

* * *

There was a plan in place, a real plan. Molly's mind was at ease, well somewhat, Sherlock Holmes still had to face the physical human embodiment of the devil and surely that was worry worthy.

"Okay, Sherlock. I will explain everything, about him, about The Doctor and answer any questions you have. But not now, not yet. Just uh… trust me. Umm… and don't be scared, please don't shout at him, I can't be there when you first meet him."

Molly was pacing, she had somewhat found that confidence that The Doctor's presence instilled in her, and Sherlock could see that in Molly, something of a shine in her eye and the strength in her voice.

"All you have to do is hit your spot, there's a distinctive mark on the ledge facing the street, you fall from that point and you'll live. The angle of your descent can't be too out, you have to fall not jump. And you promise me, Sherlock Holmes, don't you dare get yourself killed before you fall. I. Will. Never. Forgive. You." Molly punctuated her words with a forceful poke to the looming man's chest. The shocked look on his face was, was picture perfect, affronted, and if it weren't in that exact moment, Molly would have been incredibly pleased with herself for eliciting such a reaction, she would have probably would have snapped it on her phone.

"Molly Hooper. I promise."

"Good."

"And you trust this man?" Sherlock's voice was lowered in the unlit morgue.

"Yes. With everything. With my life. He has saved me more times than you can imagine. He can save you, from this game. I promise you."

"And I, Molly Hooper, trust you." Sherlock Holmes was afraid, which was painful to admit, even to himself. He slowly lifted his hand to Molly's face, and caressed her cheek swiping away her unshed tears with the calloused skin of his thumb. "More than you can imagine."

He placed a soft kiss on her lips, Molly's bittersweet dream, and Sherlock's unknown want realised. A plan in place, Sherlock Holmes strode out of the basement floor, heading to the roof, heading to a fate he was unsure of, his life in the hands of a man he was yet to meet.

"Oh you stupid man. I love you." Her words went unheard.

* * *

"It's a vessel, with a bigger interior, another dimension. You made the exterior invisible when I fell into it. No. Wait, you used a perception filter, to divert attention, if not they would have questioned why I disappeared mid-air, so you drew their eye away. Clever. Very clever. I suppose Molly planted the decoy body, and John he's alive. Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, they're alive." Sherlock let out a long breath, shaky and vulnerable, and _God, why wasn't Molly there yet? _

"She warned me about you. Oh, you are clever. Brilliant and sharp. Do you mind?" Before Sherlock had a choice The Doctor's hands were on his temples, it felt like his mind was being invaded, and quickly he closed the doors to each room in his mind palace, impenetrable to the confusing man. _And it works both ways. _Space, and stars and constellations and so much loss, so many people he had known and all gone. It was incredible that sentiment had not ruined his mind, but it was muddled.

"If you let me teach you, you could unclutter that mind of yours." Temples still pressed together, _when did that happen? _The Doctor smirked. Sherlock Holmes didn't trust easily, he had known this for many years, Molly had told him, so proud that even if she were insignificant to the man he still held an amount of that trust with her. But the feed, the shared information, and The Doctor had gained enough trust that the doors in Sherlock's mind began to creek open, the information was not vital, and it was not the sentiment locked far at the back, it was also not the people, even though he noticed Molly's door was a little more embellished than the rest, it shone unexplainably, _was Sherlock even aware of that?_

The connection was broken by a knock on the door. "Oi, lover boys, one of you gonna get that." Donna trundled through from her room at the back, separating the two men, as she made her way to the door. She was beaten by The Doctor, as he swung the door open with great emphasis, bundling the petite woman into the box, as she dumped a heavy duffle bag at the entrance. "Hooper! I thought you had a key."

"Yes, I do. Right here. I just thought a bit of warning might come in handy. Your face was always quite the picture when I just strode in." Molly's smile was weak, she was uneasy on her feet as she slumped down into the only chair in the room, her face in her hands and elongated breaths. The Doctor would have comforted her, he always had done, when a world collapsed around them, when the innocent died, he would hug her, let her cry. But Sherlock beat him to the woman's side as Donna led him away, "They need time Doctor, this is their world, it's crumbling. Just give them a little time."

"Yes ummm. Of course. Yes."

* * *

Sherlock Holmes sat next to Molly Hooper, on a worn out leather chair, in a room filled with wonder and unable to appreciate it. The silence had lasted for precisely twenty-four minutes and thirty-seven seconds, and they were barely touching. Molly's face was still covered with her hands, as Sherlock uncharacteristically twiddled his fingers in his lap, they both drew from the warmth beside them. Sherlock couldn't help it, the woman beside him, the woman that hours ago he had shared a chaste kiss with (something that he would re-examine later), the woman he felt he was on the verge of breaking, so fragile and that was his fault; he drew her into his arms, it was awkward, the angle was all wrong, but it was all Molly needed to find her voice.

"His face, Sherlock. It's like you could see the cracks, like you could see his world breaking before him. And I did that to him Sherlock. You're alive and I just had to stand there and pretend to grieve, sign the forms and lie."

"Molly. I am sorry."

"It's okay Sherlock, you're alive, you're here and your heart's still beating." She rested her hand on his chest, just above his heart and was calmed by the steady beating. Their breathing matched, slow in pace, deep and reassuring.

The electric whirr was again all that filled the silence along with the small clicks that went unnoticeable with the usual frantic pace of life with The Doctor. It lasted another twenty minutes, far more comfortable than the ones that had passed before, still with Molly in Sherlock's arms.

"Thank you." It was an almost whisper, deep and Molly could feel his voice through the hand that still rested on his chest.

She giggled softly. "It was the least I could do."

"It's more than I should ever have asked for, you saved my life, you introduced me to this world, a world that was yours. And you lied for me. You didn't hurt those people, I did. This is the least you could have done and so much more." He somehow managed a smile.

"Well. I've got a friend with and infinitely large space and time machine, it comes in handy. Thank you for not dying by the way, I really appreciate that."

The pair burst out laughing, a deep chuckle complimented by a light laughter.

* * *

"What do we do now?" Sherlock was out of his depth, he was unsure and had asked so many questions already, and it was awful.

"Any time, any place, just ask. The Doctor could take us to the end of days or the planet of Barbados. Whatever you need to do, if sexy here agrees," she patted the TARDIS console, "it can be done."

"I need to take down his network Molly, it's not over, and it'll be messy and tiresome. I have to do this alone."

"Oh no you don't. Don't. You. Dare. All of time and space, we can remove each element of that criminal network piece by piece. With The Doctor, with the TARDIS, I can't promise it'll be less messy, but it will certainly be an adventure." Her smile was persuasive, even though he was loathed to admit it, he just couldn't leave her.

"Okay." He nodded.

The Doctor and Donna re-entered the room, Donna had just won thirty-three consecutive games of Galifreyan snap, and was prideful as she walked in.

"Where to first then?" Donna asked, twiddling with little bits of the TARDIS and earning a metallic purr.

"Well, I did a bit of background research on that Moriarty fellow after Molly left, nasty chap, friends in dark places. That web of his, I'll assume we have to get rid of that, you'll need my help a little there Sherlock. Some of those monstrous people are actual monsters, even a few real aliens spiders. Brilliant really."

"Well, I got everything I could," Molly walked over to the duffle bag, pulling open the zip with great care for the item on top, she pulled out a large coat, Sherlock's Belstaff. "I managed to save this. Work know I'm going on indeterminate bereavement leave, and Mum's got Toby."

The Doctor visibly shuddered. "Your mother…"

Molly was back standing next to Sherlock in seconds, handing him a link to himself, sentimental value pouring from each thread. "Sorry, I couldn't get anything else without raising suspicion. I know you would have wanted your violin, but there's one on-board somewhere, it's just a matter of finding the right room."

He smiled in response, he wouldn't say anything, but he was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed.

The middle of the console started to make noise, moving in synch with the whirring, and the lanky man, The Doctor, ran around the circular base pushing and pulling buttons and levers, hitting this, spinning that, and smiling like a child lost in a world of sweets the whole time.

"Time to stop the bad guys. No second chances."


	6. Sharing Comfort

Molly woke with a start, air rushing into her lungs as she gasped for lost breath. She would have screamed, but the familiar surroundings calmed her, the comfortable creak of the TARDIS's ever adjusting rooms. She managed to calm her breathing if only long enough enough that her mind wandered back to the dark place it had found in her unconscious state. That's when he woke up, sensing the rustling of sheets, sensing the nightmares.

"Molly, Molls." He jumped to his feet, still wearing his trainers, still in his wrinkled pinstripe suit.

* * *

The Doctor had been sitting, curled up in a large armchair that Molly had bought for next to nothing in a bazar planets away, it was floral and dusty and at first a little suspicious, _I mean how had an 18__th__ century earth antique ended up on Inntrotec? _She had always used it to read, when they were travelling and she was homesick, pathological textbooks were still piled high either side. But the Doctor had not glanced over the grim science, his whole being focused upon watching Molly's breathing pattern as she had slept, until that steady rhythm had sent him into a light sleep of his own. The change in her breath's tempo, the sharp intakes had roused him.

* * *

"Shhh. You're okay, you're safe here." He was at her bedside, perched on the soft mattress and tentatively brushing his hands through her hair. She had started sobbing, tears softly running down her cheeks and seeping into the material of his shirt, adding dark splashes to the pale blue of his tie. The Doctor wasn't quite sure how to react, he always found this part difficult, but with Molly it was even more so. He couldn't stand to see anyone cry, but he loved Molly so dearly, and to see someone usually so strong, so held together even in the face of homicidal alien races, broken, broke him; and he couldn't protect her this time.

"What is it Molls? Hmm?" Of course the Doctor was curious for himself, the only times he had seen Molly in such a way was when she had first told him of her Father's struggles with terminal illness and he'd even caught a lost look in her eyes when he had talked of Rose, it was usually a love story that caught her.

"W-What if you weren't there to catch him? What if I'd never met you, my handsome man," She gently leaned up to him running her hand over his shoulder. Taking in a deep breath to stop the faltering, the shaking in her voice. "And changed my life forever, for… for the better? I could see him falling, his head hitting the pavement, his blood mixing with the rain, and it was all so real and I was like a ghost. I kept running to him, but the world stayed still. And then John was there, I had to watch him break all over again, but I was breaking with him."

"Oh, Molly Hooper. I would have found you no matter what, we were made to see the stars you and me, to meet the future and revisit the past, and you were made to give so many aliens, including myself, a strong talking to you. Sherlock's alive, he's here, okay. **You** saved him, and **you'd **have saved him with or without my silly time machine." She had sunk back into his embrace, her breathing had evened out by now and The Doctor placed a kiss just on her hairline, relishing in the fact that his Hooper was there in the flesh, and even in the darkest of circumstances he could travel with her again.

Sherlock chose that moment of them all to rush in. His breathing laboured, obviously having run through rooms and complicated corridors to find the common face of Molly Hooper, or so The Doctor believed. He _had_ barrelled though the corridors and crashed abruptly into the room, but Sherlock was fully aware of how to get to Molly's room, he knew exactly how to return to the room he'd previously vacated, he had just been far away.

"Molly! Are you… Is she okay?" he asked between catching breaths, noticing immediately the dim light and the petite woman in question bundled into a TimeLord's arms. He may have been unaware of social cues, but he felt as if he was stepping on a moment between the two, something unfamiliar bubbled within his stomach at the thought.

"Just the man," The Doctor beamed at him, showing no signs that Sherlock was treading on eggshells. "Trouble sleeping too?" he gestured toward the woman who was loosening herself from his arms to look up at Sherlock. _Ah, nightmares, that explains the close proximity. _"I rarely sleep when I'm on a case."

"You should have at least tried to rest Sherlock, you've been through a lot in the past forty-eight hours, your body's been through a lot. It needs time to repair." Molly's voice was soft and quite, fitting comfortably with the close light of the room, a single lamp giving a dim glow from the corner.

"Of course. I shall endeavour to try, but my mind wont slow, it can't stop."

Molly smiled sympathetically at the man, she understood. Her own mind had been racing over the past days events, and she already knew about the 'wibbly wobbly timey wimey, spacey wacey stuff' this was a lot to dump on a great mind that was in constant need of organisation, of filing and saving, deleting and storing.

"Molls, if you're alright with 'Curls' over here, I've got some controls to fiddle with. Shout if you need me." And with a nod from Molly, The Doctor was swiftly on his feet, patting Sherlock on the shoulder and exiting the room, in hope of finding Donna and the control room, wondering why he never thought to put signs up. It was his ship, and it doesn't look good to be lost on one's own ship.

Molly was thankful The Doctor had known to leave form her look, she could feel something in the air that swept over her skin, clinging to the room, and Sherlock wasn't about to share with a slightly odd, almost stranger, lodged in the room between them.

"How are you holding up? And don't give me all that holier than thou crap, because it turns out I'm barely keeping it together, and you're also human." She patted the bed next to her covered legs, and as Sherlock walked closer to her he could see the streaks of two day old make up that had bled down her face with the tears, her cracks literally showing in the warm artificial light. She still looked strong though, ready to take on the world if need called for it, ready to comfort him if his cracks became visible.

"It's a lot to take in… A sentence I rarely utter." He sat and the bed's soft mattress dipped.

"All this, it's just the world you've been living in, with a little extra light shed on it. You know that." And she knew that it was the fall, not the 'bigger on the inside' or the 'two hearts', it was the three broken hearts he had left behind, that jarred him. "It's okay, Sherlock, to feel sad. But you saved them, and that will be worth everything. It's only me. No judgement here."

"It's** never** **only** you, Molly Hooper. I still marvel at how you can do that, look right through my façade." His face dropped as he let go of the mask, the stern, cold features replaced with ones far softer, cracks beginning to show and flooding with untold fear and sacrifice. But also gratitude, something Molly had only seen once before aimed towards her, so she smiled as much as the still prevalent dream would let her.

"I just couldn't sleep, thinking about it. The look on his face as I fell, he still believed in me Molly, and now he's got the whole world to compete with."

Molly dragged Sherlock into her embrace then, uncaring if Sherlock would protest, her words weren't necessarily up to the job, but The Doctor had once told her that her hugs could halt wars. And she needed the comfort of human contact as much as Sherlock needed to remember that he was alive.

"I know. But you're alive and here, and it may take time, and I know full well it's not going to be easy, but we have all of the time in the universe. And once we've stopped every one of Moriarty's allegiances you can be back with John, with Mrs Hudson and Lestrade in no time. Although, I can't promise it will be so soon after the event, you're a fixed point in time now, and for a TimeLord, The Doctor is atrocious at time keeping." Molly giggled to alleviate her need to cry as Sherlock chuckled for much the same reason, he held onto her tightly, something neither of them had expected when Molly's arms had encircled his frame. But the warmth that emanated from her was quelling his alert mind, the racing was slowing and thoughts of the TARDIS, of other worlds and diverse species washing calm over his storming emotions.

"Molly, what were you dreaming about? I came here for a reason, like I sensed your distress, but why?"

"That's the TARDIS, well mostly. The translation matrix reaches beyond the linguistics, it also translates emotional resonance frequencies, it can draw you to trouble, to distress. Very clever, but means so many adventures are fraught with a little more than you asked for. I suppose my nightmare triggered it, because in my dream you really had died… I couldn't help you, I –I -didn't have The Doctor. Oh God, you – you were so pale." Molly realised she had probably shared too much, this burden was her own, she had already shed some of her pain onto The Doctor, Sherlock did not need it too. "Sorry." She dropped her arms from the embrace they had still been in, but Sherlock was reluctant to let go.

"No, I'm sorry. I put you in this position, but as you said. I'm alive, and we're going to get through this. I – ah – think you may need sleep as much as I do."

"Oh yes, of course." Molly wasn't sure what she had been expecting, for Sherlock to meander out of the room to the dark victorian-esque room he could call his own? Probably. She certainly wasn't expecting for the strong arms that were wrapped around her to stay, turning her in his hold, until his palms lay flat on her stomach, fingers spread. His breathing evened out, becoming shallow and restful as his heartbeat slowed, their heads sharing the same pillow even though there was one just two inches away. She wasn't expecting that at all, but she didn't question it as her body followed suit and fell into a pleasantly dreamless sleep, engulfed by the consulting detective, protected by her world of wonder.

* * *

The Doctor wandered back down the corridors, he had set the controls to a clear, slow flight path, and the persistent whir of the steady controlled flight of his ship filled the corridors, it was unusual but relaxing. He spotted Donna outside the fractionally open door of Molly's room, he'd been on his way back to check on her, but stopped dead at the sly smile on Donna's face.

"Doctor. Doctor, you have to see this!" Donna stage whispered, gesturing to the cracked open door, smile still firmly in place.

He ran to her but slowed as he reached where she stood, Donna was obscuring his vision, but his curiosity peaked when he saw movement from Molly's bed. It wasn't Molly. No, there was someone else with her, and his pale skin glowed from the faint light of the lamp still switched on in the corner of the room.

"What?" he whispered, voice echoing his shock.

"I bet you twenty quid they're madly in love by the end of our second trip."

"Donna, I don't have money. You know that."

"Just sonic it from a cash machine, because soon enough you'll owe me." As she walked away Donna began laughing, "Thank goodness, 'moody mop top' isn't my type. I'd be no competition for Molly Hooper.

As she turned the corner The Doctor's expression fell imperceptibly, "And I'm no competition for Sherlock Holmes."

* * *

**I feel I should explain that last line, because it sounded a little shippy. I wrote it, not as The Doctor wanting Molly to fall in love with him romantically, but because he doesn't want her to fall out of love with the idea of him, as the person to protect her, as her closest friend, he doesn't want her to stop calling him 'my handsome man' and he doesn't want to not be able to call her 'beautiful' just because Sherlock wouldn't see that as only platonic. He comes from a different world, The Doctor loves Molly Hooper, but he's still ****_in love _****with Rose, he doesn't want Molly to fall ****_in love _****with Sherlock and push out her love for him, because he can tell that when Molly loves she loves wholeheartedly. Sherlock has been his 'competition' from day one, and having him on board is just going to tip the scales. His love for Molly is purely platonic, but that doesn't mean he can't get jealous, or scared. **

**I'm really sorry this took so long to write, it's been sitting open on word over half written for weeks, but the end just never flowed. I still think it's a little stiff, but I want to upload it so, ta da.**

**:) **


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